


shake tramp

by Babydoll Ria (Babydoll_Ria)



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 11:03:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4135101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Babydoll_Ria/pseuds/Babydoll%20Ria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’s pushed him away so many times he’s got whiplash. </p><p>She drags him close and then she’s gone, smoke and perfume against his skin</p>
            </blockquote>





	shake tramp

It’s the potential that burns like acid.

She’s not blind and he’s not either. There’s something there that feels tangible between them. Well yeah of course there is-her name is Riley and they love her.

They love her both in very different ways but it could be the same way because it comes down to the same line. They love her and they will not hurt her.

And so when she drags him by his shirt, demanding him to look at her and there’s electricity sparking and her voice gets deeper and all she has to do is stand on her tiptoes and she knows he wouldn’t stop her because he’s looking at her bottom lip. There’s paint on his face, and paint on her’s.  They could mix colours.

She lets him go and pushes him away and drags Farkle (almost as close just to prove a point) and tells him the same thing.

It’s what she’s doing, denying and destroying. 

They’re fourteen you know (okay so he’s fifteen) and it’s just  the potential of something and she stomps out the spark like a still lit cigarette butt on the subway platform.

It means nothing.

* * *

 

There’s this idea that drums in his head. It gives him a migraine. In fact he’s had a permanent migraine (or it feels like it) since coming to New York.

It’s three years in and he’s still not used to this coldness.  There is a coldness of New York, it’s imprinted on each New Yorker, something in their DNA that makes them inhale the city and exhale over foreigners like himself.

This isn’t his city, it’s tattooed over his face it feels.  But New York isn’t giving him a migraine-he’s was Austin not bum fuck nowhere like she thinks. No it’s this blonde in front of him-and even though there is no assigned seating and he could just move but then he sarcastic comments would have to be made across the room and then everyone would get involved with the in joke.

And he likes the in jokes. He likes have smart ass conversations, where everything is instinct because there’s no time to be slow and if he’s slow she’ll eat him and maybe he wants to eat her instead.

Look he’s sixteen and he’s got a sex drive.  It’s his monologue and he can make jokes about wanting to eat her out as much as he wants.

(It’s never going to happen-she’s pushed him away so many times he’s got whiplash. She drags him close and then she’s gone, smoke and perfume against his skin.)

Maybe it’s the perfume. It’s cheap stuff, something that smells like she got it from a –not a dollar store, but not a department store either. It’s not fruity but flowery and it might be her shampoo. She smells like New York.

And he knows who he’s supposed to like the smell of.

It’s Riley, pretty, perfect Riley. And that’s not sarcasm. It’s just Riley. Riley is the girl next door, the sweetheart innocence even in New York.

He’s not stupid, he knows how this is supposed to go.

He doesn’t do anything you know.

* * *

Getting a driver’s license in New York is almost contradictory. But she gets it before anyone else in their grade-the only good thing about a January birthday to be honest.

Well she gets it before almost everyone.

And Roxy helps her drive, but it’s Shawn who teaches her like he’s her dad how to shift the gears, and how to change lanes and use her blinker.  It makes her feel normal, even though they drove all the way to Philadelphia to learn how to drive because Shawn swore up and down that driving in New York is the worst thing to do to a person.

It’s kind of funny, she’s got an out of state driver’s license with a kick ass photo to show off on Monday with a shit eating grin that she’s more mature, more grown up than anyone else in the grade.

She didn’t count on him standing behind her (because she was just showing Riley and Farkle and Zay) but he’s behind her, grabbing her wrist with the little plastic card with the cool holograph waving in the air twisting her hand so he can see the photograph. It feels like fire, his (large) hand gently circling her wrist, and if she tips her head back she would be resting on his chest.

‘Nice picture Maya Penelope,’ he tells her. Her name feels off from his mouth.

She freezes, unable to come up with something quick, something real. And it might be because she can feel him breathe-that’s he’s too close for normal. And that’s her thing, bringing him into her personal space and pushing him out at her whim. But he’s standing too close, without her permission and he’s solid and she doesn’t know how to push him out without making it obvious.

‘Show me yours Ranger Rick. You’re probably wearing a cowboy hat,’ she deflects. He compiles, letting go of her wrist and shifting and she can breathe.

He shows her his license-from Texas- and his middle name is Wyatt. Like the actual cowboy.

* * *

 

He breaks up with Riley after dating for almost a year.

Officially it’s done, for real. No more seesaws, no more sort ofs. It’s done, finite and he’s happy.  Maybe he shouldn’t be this happy.

But he is-and it’s not the blue balls-they’ve been playing just the tip because Riley’s not ready and he respect that’s. It’s not anything in particular but this feeling of something finally being done.

Like there was this pre-written idea that him and Riley were meant to be before they actually met and now they met, and they dated and they broke up everyone can move on and do whatever.

And it’s not even a bad break up, just a sad one. Riley cried and he felt bad but when it’s not working you don’t beat a dead horse.

It’ll take a while to get used to not holding Riley’s hand and walking to Riley’s classes like she asked him to, but he’ll adjust.  

What is taking him by surprised is how he can never find her best friend-who coincidentally is his friend as well. He can count on one hand his friends-his real friends-and she’s there-the thumb because it’s the shortest (and not the first finger he uses to count with.) But she’s not anywhere.

That throws him off balance more than the break up.  And he’s knows why of course.

He’s not stupid, and they’ve skirted around this issues for years-literally years because of Riley and now Riley is a non-issue-well sort of. Best friend, ex-girlfriend so maybe it’s a big issue but it’s done and maybe there can be room to address the way she looks at him like she’s thinking of him naked.

He’s going to admit he’s thought of her naked too. A lot.

And there’s something there. Something big but it’s always been pushed away, and forgotten because of Riley and now there’s Riley but in the past sort of way and they should talk about this.

Or something.

* * *

 

The thing about high school parties is that the booze is severely limited by two main factors: who has a viable fake, and who has an elder relative who is a-okay with buying for minors.

But it’s the last year, the graduation party in Farkle’s dad’s condo, and the only one who actually looks like they’re twenty-one is him so he buys a keg and Riley stands at the door taking keys. They’re a perfect team, even when they broke up and she intends to make them realize they’re meant to be.

Because Riley deserves a fairy tale-even if she decides to ditch the guy meant to be at the finish line. And she will be the one to make sure it happens.

She plays bartender-that way she can keep the good stuff (white rum, and tequila plus a handle of vodka) under lock and key until it’s just the five of them-plus Smackle at the end of the night.

And then it’s the real party. Because after prom was cool with a bunch of kids she’ll never see again but these five crazy kids are the ones who she loves and will be making an effort to keep in touch. She doesn’t know how to be good without Riley, Farkle grows like a fungi and Zay is fun.

She doesn’t know what to do about him either and she hasn’t for years.

She didn’t crush the flame under her boot like a cigarette butt like she thought she did all those years ago. She just tossed a lit cigarette on kerosene, letting a fire gather strength while she sat with her back to the flames.

She’s gotten third degree burns and pretending she doesn’t know what happening. And the ignorance she’s playing hurts more than the acid she swallowed pushing away the potential.

They’re all sitting around passing bottles mixing liquors and laughing. And she bumps shoulders with him and it’s too easy just to lean in, melt against him let him carry her weight because he’s just formed so nicely like his arm is meant to go behind her back and his shoulder is meant for her head. And they’re all drunk and tired and high on after prom and weed. So no one notices that she’s breathing in his scent-it’s manly and good and makes the fire in her belly unfurl.  No one notices but him if she just moves a bit closer and kisses him in that spot where his neck meets his head and his Adams apple swallows.

He doesn’t move as she gives him a secret kiss.

She’s going to put out this flame, because Riley deserves everything and that includes him.

**Author's Note:**

> seevikifangirl.tumblr.com


End file.
